This story is a spin-off from the mother-son story "East End Lovers". Readers don't need to know that series at all as this story is self-contained, though chapter 6 of EEL contains some cross-references for anyone interested. The story takes place in London at the end of the seventies. The language and activity is more restrained than in EEL, reflecting Sue's character. There's a fair amount of exposition as I'm trying to give a feeling of reality as to Sue's motivation in sleeping with Cliff -- Cliff's motivation needs little if any explanation! I also have a hope the story might appeal to some women readers (if such exist). Hopefully there's enough action to keep everyone's interest. All characters are over 18 and fictitious.
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(Cliff starts off the story)
In the summer of 1979 I had just graduated from the University of Kent with a good economics degree and had obtained what was in effect a trainee position in the Treasury -- though it wasn't called that then. Even in those days with far fewer graduates around, this was a very good job to get -- though I'd worked hard enough to get it.
I'd had several girlfriends at college though for the first two years, no-one serious -- I guess this was at least in part because of the sexual relationship I had been having with my mother -- until at the start of the final year I'd met Sally. She was a year older than me and was just starting a post-graduate degree in the same subject. She was extremely bright, and like many very clever people she loved sex. Having been tutored in these matters by my mother, and having had a variety of experiences with her which I guess few other guys of my age had had, I was able to do things for and with Sally which even she hadn't had done before.
We became an item of sorts and she began to open up other worlds in terms of travel and culture which -- coming from a council flat in London's East End -- I'd never known existed.
However, this story isn't about Sally -- it's about her mother Sue. When I met Sue in 1978, she was in the process of divorcing her husband. Sally gave me the lowdown. Sue and Harold had got married in 1955; Harold was in the army and ten years older than Sue, who had just done teacher training. I guess he'd cut a dashing figure at the time and turned lots of young women's heads. Anyway, Sue fell for him and they got married, he left the army, got a job in overseas sales, and Sally arrived within the year, and another sister a year and a half later.
Sue had returned to teaching once her daughters were at school, and by the time we met was a head of department and deputy head of the school. There were two problems with the marriage - Harold (who I met and rather liked) was a bit pompous and old-fashioned generally, but more importantly was pretty useless in bed. Sue had assumed being much older than her that he was also experienced but in fact he was no more experienced than his wife, and while Sue was happy to learn, he suffered from a range of hang-ups and never managed to satisfy Sue. He just rolled on her and rolled off shortly afterwards, and sex apparently became less and less frequent until it stopped altogether after fifteen years of marriage.
Sue I should say was very attractive. She was medium height, fair haired and slim -- slimmer than my mother, with smaller breasts (I knew this early on as we went swimming once and I saw her in a very clingy costume) and a round, pert arse. I also liked her as a person -- I think she sort of took me on as a case for improvement -- though I never imagined she might ever be interested in me in any other way.
Anyway, by the time I left university in mid-1979, Sue and Harold had divorced, sold the family home in Harrow, and with the ample proceeds had each bought flats elsewhere, Sue in Pimlico and Harold in Chiswick in West London, out towards Heathrow.
Sally wanted to work abroad and was well-qualified to do so, and while one part of me wanted her to stay around, I sort of realised she wanted to move on from our relationship. She specialised in development economics and just after we left university she managed to land a plum job in her field in the West Indies. There was no way she was going to turn this down, so we amicably agreed it was probably the end for us, but that we'd stay friends. There was just the going away party and departure to get through. She decided to hold the party the day before leaving at her mother's flat and then to leave at the end of the party to stay with her father who'd take her to Heathrow for the flight the following day.
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(Sue takes up the story here)
I suppose Sally and I had a much more open relationship than most mothers and daughters at the time. Because I was a teacher, I thought I knew how best to talk to her from an early age about sex, and when she started going out with boys she (I think) usually told me what she got up to. When she was 18 she decided she wanted to lose her virginity (unusually she didn't have a boyfriend as such at the time) and while I was unsure this was the right thing to do, my own far than perfect sex life as a young woman helped me decide that being open was better than pretending girls of her age didn't have sex, so we talked about it, sorted out contraception and when she did find someone she fancied, I helped ensure she had the opportunity.
I suppose to some extent I began having a vicarious sex life through what Sally told me she did -- at that time I certainly didn't have any sort of love life involving anyone else myself. She must have had a dozen boyfriends in her first two years of college, before meeting Cliff, and I'm sure she slept with all of them.
I suppose I must have been attracted to Cliff at some physical level from the start though I never let such thoughts surface and I was anyway tied up with my divorce and moving home and job. It was Sally who stirred up my interest by going on about how good Cliff was in bed -- she said none of her previous boyfriends were anywhere near as good. She was if anything a little too explicit -- she was using a cap for contraception, which is messy business (I knew as like many women of my generation I had relied on a cap too), and told me how instead of objecting to it, Cliff learned how to prepare it and insert it to her vagina, as part of foreplay. Harold had made me go to the bathroom to put it in! She also told me he was bigger than most of the boys she'd had sex with -- it really was Too Much Information!
With hindsight I suppose that by the time of Sally's leaving party in my Pimlico flat, I was an archetypal frustrated mature woman, in her physical and sexual prime, just waiting to be plucked. You might ask why I hadn't a boyfriend by this time -- well, in those pre-internet days it was really difficult for someone like me to meet men. I was teaching in schools with few men -- and those few there were generally not attractive -- and to cap it all the one extra-marital experience I'd tried was a disaster.
I won't go into too much detail, but shortly after my divorce I did start to go out for an occasional drink with a married male colleague. After an end of term party, he came back to my flat and he started kissing me. I thought, well now or never, and when he put his hand up my skirt and started to massage me, I started to touch his penis through his trousers. We ended up on the bed, with my skirt rucked up and my knickers down, while he had his trousers and pants around his ankles. He was about to enter me when I reminded him I wasn't on the Pill and that he'd need to use a condom. Well, of course he didn't have one, and he got very shirty and said he thought all divorced woman were on the Pill, and now he was just frustrated. I though he was behaving very badly and after that I just wanted to get rid of him and the easiest way to do this was to relieve his frustration, so I masturbated him until he climaxed, and it was all rather messy and I ended up even more frustrated. We didn't try again.
The farewell party went well, and Sally was picked up by her father around midnight. About 8 or 9 friends and family had stayed to see her go, but they all left shortly afterwards. Cliff was clearing up in the kitchen (what a well-trained boy I thought, his mother has done wonders with him -- little did I realise how very true this was), and we suddenly found ourselves alone. I told him it was OK to leave it, he'd done enough, but in truth he had done much of what needed doing, so we carried on and finished off the clearing up.
By this time it was around 12.30 am; Cliff was clearly tipsy and as he had arrived on his old motorbike I thought I should invite him to stay in the second bedroom.
"That's very kind Sue but I don't want to be any trouble -- I'll be fine on the bike, really."
